


The Tragedy of the Unhappy Couple

by Madtom_Publius



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF
Genre: Accusations of Infidelity, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6272515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madtom_Publius/pseuds/Madtom_Publius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night on St. Croix, Rachel and her husband James had a fight</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tragedy of the Unhappy Couple

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr by publius-esquire, edited for grammar and tweaked for content

“If they catch you spying from the stairs like that, they’re going to yell at you again.” Alec ignored Ajax’s warning, waiving for him to go back to bed before peeking back down to the lower floor. Ajax shrugged, turning over on the makeshift bed on the floor to try and get what sleep he could. The voices downstairs carried louder, and Alec watched as his parents escalated their argument into another screaming match.

 

“You uproot the family, and now you want to move us again, because you might have found a promising opportunity?” Rachel stood defiantly in front of her husband, brows knitted to the bridge of her nose as Hamilton drank from his tankard on his chair.

 

James scoffed. “First you complain I don’t work, and now that I finally found some success with the Moir case, now that I can finally afford to see the fruits of my ambitions, you still want to nag? Can I do nothing to please you, Madam? Moving us here proved triumphant, did it not? Trust me, once I’m given this land grant, we’ll be living on a prosperous plantation and never have worry about these affairs again.”

 

Narrowing her eyes, Rachel groaned in exasperation. This was not the first time her husband had deluded himself with promises of quick riches. If she had a piece-of-eight for every one of James’s dreams that amounted to nothing, they would be out of debt already. “I never wanted to move here in the first place! So finally you were successful for once. And do you know what it’s been like here for me? For your sons? You don’t think they’ve figured it out? Having to ask why I don’t have their name – your name – anymore?” Could her husband possibly understand how it felt to live in a place with so many terrible memories, to live mere blocks away from the fort where she had been jailed so her first spouse could teach her a “lesson” about subservience?

 

No, of course he couldn’t.

 

“That’s hardly my fault,” said Hamilton, gritting his teeth and staring into the dark amber liquid of his drink. He had hoped his wife would praise him for his success, and the consistent criticism he received instead drove poisoned bitterness deep in his chest, loosening his tongue. “If you hadn’t thrown your arms around other men, then every fishwife and slandermonger here wouldn’t be whispering whenever you walk past them.”

 

From the top of the stairs, Alec gasped as he felt a hand pulling his arm back. His brother Jem tried to move him out of the way, the commotion from their parents’ arguing having woken him from fitful slumber. Alec peered from around his shoulder as their mother’s face went red and she balled her fists.

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“You know what I’m talking about,” sneered Hamilton.

 

Rachel’s arms shook, infuriated. Without thinking she snatched the tankard from her husband’s hands and threw the drink at his face. “God damn it, wench!” James thrashed up from his stool in an instant, face contorted and maroon with rage, but Rachel had maneuvered herself so the table separated them. James wiped his face, spitting the wasted rum. “You ungrateful hussy,” he spat. “Now I understand why Lavien couldn’t tolerate your abuses. You say I don’t know what’s said around here?” His eyes blinked rapidly as they started to wet. “Do you think I’m daft, that I’m blind? I can see it with my own eyes. You think I haven’t noticed how much Alec looks like that little Stevens kid? Did you whore with Thomas Stevens too while I was away? Is Alec even my son?”

 

The two brothers’ eyes widened, and Jem looked down at Alec for the first time with suspicion.

 

Rachel gasped, digging her nails into her fists tightly as her face fell; her own tears threatened to start. The accusations felt no less terrible coming from this husband than it had her first. How awful it was to be swept up in men’s weaknesses. “How could you say that?” she asked, incredulously. “How can you speak so cruelly? Of course he’s your son. James, there has been no one else. I’m your wife.”

 

Hamilton waived his hand dismissively, sweeping past her mutely to grab his hat, money, and rifle from their places against the wall before storming towards the door.

 

“Where are you going?” asked Rachel, stepping from behind the table to grab his arm. Her eyes widened with worry, suddenly anxious where she had been filled only with anger moments before. “You can’t go out this late, where are you going?”

 

James pulled his arm away. “I’m not going to let these affairs sink my situation. Ingrams says this new work is promising, and I trust him. I will not let myself be trapped on these poisonous islands forever. I’ll claim my grant, work my land, and start fresh with this new plantation. I’ll send for you when that happens.” Rachel tried coaxing her naïve husband back again, but he brushed her aside and stepped out the door.

 

As she heard his footsteps disappear, Rachel rubbed her face wearily, but did not run after him. She assumed James would go and drink out his problems at the tavern, have a good laugh at her expense with the other rough men on the island who frequented there, and be back, dragged home by the slave patrol, worthless and drunk as ever, by the time the sun rose.

 

“Don’t concern yourselves too much,” She had assured her boys the next morning, her cheeks blotched and puffy but her features determined. “You know your father has his flights of fancy, but he’ll return.”

 

The day went by and James Hamilton did not return. He didn’t come back the next day either. Or the next. Days became weeks, which became months.

 

“This is your fault,” said Jem dejectedly to his brother, looking at him with suspicion again. Perhaps he knew at his core what their father had said was spoken from anger rather than truth, but the reality of abandonment began to bore into their chests and he needed someone to blame. “It’s your fault my father’s not coming back.”

 

Alec narrowed his eyes. “He’s my father, too. And he will come back.”

 


End file.
